Fake Married to My Best Friend’s Daddy by Sofia T Summers
Jessica
“No,” I mumbled to myself. “That wouldn’t work either.”
Wrapped up in a towel, I sat on my full-sized bed browsing available rentals on my computer. Some of my co-workers had been kind enough to take me out for dinner, but now it was thirty minutes until my Cinderella bedtime. At midnight, I was going to turn into a pumpkin. I couldn’t stop myself from looking for five more minutes though.
My freshly-showered hair dripped down my bare shoulders, while I continued to browse short-term leases. I didn’t know if I could sign myself over to a full year. I could however manage a few months. By then, I could look for a long-term place with some confidence. I just didn’t know if that was going to be in Norfolk or Canada.
Wondering if I should look for a job in Quebec or maybe Toronto, I shook that thought from my head. I needed to be hopeful - practical but hopeful. Job hunting could be saved for a day when I was more certain that my citizenship was going to be revoked. After all, they were just reviewing my paperwork and deciding to put it through a formal process. The investigators from immigration might realize that a small error made by a young mother twenty-eight years ago might not be worth their time.
It wasn’t like I had falsified the document. Why should I be punished for the accident?
I could tell myself this again and again, but it didn’t keep my stomach from twisting into knots. I felt the vultures already circling, ready to pick at my remains. The anxiety wouldn’t leave until this whole ordeal was behind me, but my life wasn’t over yet. I just needed to take several calming breaths and finish getting ready for bed.
Setting my laptop aside, I walked around the quilt-covered bed towards the dresser. The well-made piece of furniture was painted black with solid brass handles. I loved it, but I knew I could leave it behind if necessary. There were only a few things in my condo that mattered to me like my mother’s jewelry, my great-grandmother’s authentic French china, and my beautiful clothes.
I took great care in picking out my clothes, even my night things. It was one of my greatest convictions that one well-made piece of clothing was worth far more than cheap nonsense from a clearance rack. Rifling through my drawer of nightclothes, I decided on a pink satin camisole and shorts set. The smooth fabric glided over my curves, while I shut the drawer behind me.
My muscles still felt on edge as I walked toward the bathroom. Part of me wished Adrian was there to comfort me again. I didn’t know why or how, but he had the strange talent of putting my problems under impenetrable glass. As we ate lunch, I could see my troubles, but they couldn’t bother me. I just looked into the cloudless sky that lived in his eyes, and all my anxiety felt… small.
Adrian made me feel light. My smiles and laughter were genuine, and part of me wasn’t ready to leave him when the lunch was over. Still, I reminded myself this wasn’t some date, and Adrian wasn’t my friend. He was Nicole’s father. He was being kind because of Nicole.
I still remembered when he and his wife would invite me out to dinner with them. When I was a senior at William and Mary, Nicole and I shared a room in sorority housing on-campus. We would go eat at the local Chinese restaurant and make polite conversation.
Charlotte Davis told stories about her college days, and Adrian asked about our classes. The two sat side-by-side in the bright red dining room filled with watercolor prints of pagoda temples and other familiar chinoiseries. Charlotte teased Adrian relentlessly, and Nicole couldn’t help but get a little embarrassed.
It was the kind of quiet suburban experience I’d never experienced before or since. My family had never been white-picket-fence people, not that I minded, but spending time with the Davis family allowed me to glimpse that kind of life. Charlotte and Adrian Davis made the quiet middle-class life look picturesque and appealing.
Adrian was always charming and kind, but my eyes never did believe that he could be Nicole’s father. He looked almost too young. He had the chiseled features and Roman nose of some ancient statue. His thick blonde hair was golden like a field of summer wheat, while his ageless eyes captured the color of clear afternoon skies. When he smiled brightly enough, Adrian’s grin had a pair of perfect little dimples to match.
If I hadn’t known any better, I would’ve guessed he was maybe thirty-five but never over forty, especially when he flashed one of his boyish grins. Over lunch, he would offer one of those smiles with a low laugh that resonated from deep within his chest.
It made me forget why we were at that bistro in the first place.
When he hugged me goodbye, I knew I shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much. Adrian was close enough that I could smell his cologne with notes of cedar, citrus, and fresh summertime beaches. Fresh yet still masculine, I could’ve stood there all day breathing in those scents, but that wasn’t what made the touch so treacherous.
Adrian’s embrace made me feel surprisingly safe. With his arms wrapped around my shoulders, it was like nothing could hurt me. My problems were under glass again, and my mind couldn’t spin out of control. Even if there was a hurricane blowing around us, I wouldn’t have worried.
I didn’t have anybody in my life who made me feel quite that way, and I couldn’t start leaning on Adrian Davis. I knew it would be too addictive. As nice as it felt, I couldn’t abuse his generosity or forget that he was my best friend’s father.
It was all too treacherous.
Brushing my teeth in the bathroom, I braced my weight against the black granite counters while trying to put it all out of my head for the night. My mind needed to be clear before I went to sleep. I fought back a yawn and went through my skincare routine. Tucking myself into bed, I buried myself under the patchwork quilt my abuela had made. The soft cotton brushed against my clean cheeks, while my eyes fluttered shut.
It wasn’t long before I was lost to the world. My imagination took me to a Mediterranean beach I’d never seen. I’d never been anywhere around that sparkling sea. Still, my mind told me this was some isolated beach in Greece or Italy with water that was dark, lovely, and deep. Nobody would ever find me there.
On this craggy shore with dark rocks and pale sands, Adrian sat beside me under a moonlit sky. He spoke, but I didn’t know what he was saying. I was too lost in that boyish grin again. My eyes beheld his loose white shirt and khaki shorts. It was like a summery version of what he’d been wearing that afternoon. I couldn’t tell what I was wearing or if I was wearing anything at all, but it didn’t matter.
I felt perfectly safe. Contentment washed over me like the blue waters lapping around our feet. I couldn’t feel the coming tides though. Everything began blurring together as one scene flourished into another. Soon enough, I could only feel the weight of Adrian’s broad chest pressed against mine.
He hovered over me, and I breathed in his cologne again. There were notes of crisp oranges, woodsy cedar, and the freshness of salt air. My heart was racing as he came so close. It was like his lips were against my neck, but I couldn’t sense them. I only felt my body begging for more than his grazing kiss and his gentle touch.
I’m always here, Jessica.
As Adrian whispered those words against my lips, I didn’t know if that was a blessing or curse, but it didn’t matter there. We were alone and safe. I could be tangled up in the sand with Adrian, and nobody would ever know.
My chest rose and fell with want, and my breath became ragged. Whatever he wanted, I let Adrian have. His hands claimed every inch of me, while my vision became filled with stars and his golden face.
Adrian, I….
There were so many things I wanted to say. I could’ve told him so much, but it was all lost in the moment. I believed there would be other chances to make Adrian understand. For now, I needed to deal with the heat pooling inside of me.
All too quickly, I was burning up. My skin was hotter than the evening air or Adrian’s confident hands, yet I wanted no relief. Pinned under Adrian’s strong chest, I never wanted to feel anything else. I relished the wonderful agony he provided.
Even if it was just a dream, I didn’t want to let go. I could only grasp the pieces of Adrian I couldn’t really feel. I kissed the lips I couldn’t taste, while our bodies connected. I knew Adrian’s hardened length had slipped inside me, but there was only heat.
I was burning up with no real satisfaction in sight.
My eyes shot open to the darkness of my bedroom. The apartment was quiet, yet my skin was damp in a cold sweat. Turning my head, I squinted to make out that it was a little after four in the morning.
My body felt aroused and alive. With my skin electrified by Adrian’s phantom touch, I longed to be touched by genuine hands, yet there was nobody around. I was just going to have to suffer.
I knew how to get my kicks alone, but I couldn’t find satisfaction from that dream. Adrian Davis wasn’t mere fantasy. He was a real man who was entirely off-limits. My cheeks began to burn with embarrassment.
If Nicole ever knew about my strange sudden feelings or that potent dream, I didn’t know how she would react, and I didn’t want to know. She was too dear to me. I couldn’t risk our friendship over some silly infatuation.
I’d just been feeling vulnerable, and Adrian happened to be there. It was like the Florence Nightingale effect turned on its head. Adrian had taken care of me in a fragile moment, and I was feeling attracted to him because of it. As long as I kept him at arm’s length, he would go back to being a nice man who I happened to know.
And yet… my heart was still fluttering. There were pearling beads of sweat on the back of my neck, and some part of me craved for more.
